


All My Favourite Conversations

by TrashMonster



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Animal Rescue, Animals, Blow Jobs, Cats, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Musician Niall, True Love, Veterinarian Liam, cat sanctuary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashMonster/pseuds/TrashMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' finally ready to get his life back on track and prove he's not 'broken'. All he needs is a job. </p><p>Harry runs a cat rescue shelter in the grounds of an ageing manor house. Overworked and running on empty, he's desperate to find someone to help him keep the shelter running. All he needs is someone willing to work for crap pay at odd hours of the day. </p><p>When he posted an ad he really didn't think anyone would apply. Luckily, Louis isn't just anyone. </p><p>Neither is Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All My Favourite Conversations

Windy Ridge was exactly as the name suggested. Windy, and ridgey. Or at least on top of a hill. That counted as a ridge, yeah? 

He’d got lost three times on the way, cursing Eleanor the whole time and wondering if he should just give up now. The only thing that kept him going was fear of Eleanor’s wrath. Or disappointment. Either one was to be feared. 

He’d never admit it, but it was good to get out again. Liam and Zayn hadn’t said anything, but he was pretty sure they were starting to get concerned. He knew Zayn wouldn’t interfere unless he started to fall behind on his share of the rent and bills, but Louis was willing to bet Liam was dangerously close to staging an intervention. 

Windy Ridge itself was a ridiculously large house perched atop a hill in the middle of the English countryside. It had been painted white at some point, though the paint was starting to crack and peel, revealing the layers beneath. A wrought-iron balcony curled round to the back of the house, and ivy crept up the walls, appearing to slowly consume it. 

Louis liked it. 

He parked the car on the tarmac and ventured out, immediately wishing he’d brought a jacket. Seriously, what was up with this wind? 

A small sound drew his attention as the car door slammed shut behind him, plaintive and insistent. Louis looked down, a smile already on his face. 

“Hello, there. Are you the welcoming committee?” 

The calico cat made the same plaintive, insistent noise again, before winding itself between his legs. It would be charitable to call the noise it made a meow, but Louis was pretty sure that’s what it was trying to do. It sounded instead like a small quack. 

He crouched down, fussing the cat behind its ears. It purred, enthusiastically pushing its head against Louis’ hand. 

“Aren’t you adorable?” he murmured. 

A distinct meow rang out after that - an actual meow this time, not a quack - as a large grey tabby sauntered over, tail raised enquiringly. 

“And you,” Louis quickly added, knowing never to incur the wrath of a cat. “You’re adorable too.” 

The tabby butted hard against Louis’ knee, demanding an equal share of attention. Louis would have been happy to grant it, if not for the approach of a third, brindled, cat. 

“I only have two hands,” he explained, as each cat vied for his attention. 

A laugh broke the chorus of meows - and quacks - rising up around him. Louis twisted, trying to spot the interloper. He realised a second too late that twisting while in a crouch was not the wisest course of action. Unfortunately by this point it was already too late. His butt landed heavily on the tarmac, the cats scattering before him as he fell back. 

The laugh only grew louder. It was practically a cackle. 

“You alright, mate?” 

“Obviously.” 

His response earned a further cackle before a hand was thrust toward him, followed by bleached blonde hair and a grinning face. 

“Up you come, then,” the man said, hauling Louis up happily. “Hurt yourself?”

“Nothing but my pride.” 

This elicited another cackle. Louis wasn’t sure if the guy was taking the mick, but he knew he wasn’t that funny. Zayn constantly told Louis he was actually painfully unfunny on the best of days. 

“Your pride’s worth sacrificing after Ziggy, Stardust, and Proust have deigned to approach you. Isn’t that right, girls?” 

The cats ignored the man, each wandering off in their own direction. 

“I’m Niall,” the man continued, offering his hand to shake. 

“Louis.”

“Eleanor’s friend?”   
“That’s right.” Louis tracked the disappearing cats, wondering which one was which. “Did you name them?” he couldn’t help but ask. 

Niall shook his head.

“Nah. Those names are all Harry’s fault.”   
“I like them. They suit each one.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. See, Stardust is the tabby, right? Because the grey kinda sparkles in the sunlight. You could imagine it’s star dust in cold outer space.”

Niall snorted.

“Ziggy is the brindle,” Louis continued, nodding at the third cat, who was busy washing his paws in a spot of sunshine. “And I guess that means the one who quacks is Proust.”

“Christ,” Niall muttered, shaking his head. “You’re gonna fit in here just fine.”

“Does that mean I already got the job?” 

Niall shrugged. 

“If it was up to me, mate, you’d have got it the moment I saw those divas letting you touch them. Those three are fussy as anything about new people. But, sadly, it’s not up to me. I don’t even work here.”

“No?”

“No. Harry’s the one you need to impress. I’ll take you to him now.” 

He set off walking, gesturing for Louis to follow as he cut through a path at the side of the house. 

Louis followed after him, Proust trailing behind, softly quacking for attention. 

“Garage,” Niall said, motioning to a building they were passing on their left. “We keep all the donations in there until someone can run them down to the shop. Bathrooms,” he added, pointing to a building on their left. “There’s a single shower in there, in case you get dirty on the job.”

Louis nodded as Niall talked, sure he wouldn’t remember a thing. 

“I’ll give you a proper tour later, but past this lot,” he continued, gesturing to a group of wooden buildings they were approaching, “is the nursery, infirmary, retirement village, rabbit enclosure, and the goat field.”

“I thought it was just cats here.”

“It was supposed to be, and it would be, if Harry had any sense. He never listens to me. Takes in all stray animals we can’t find a place for, though primarily we are for cats. There’s a donkey in the goat field as well. Actually, there’s one sheep, one goat, and one donkey. The goat was there first though, so it has naming rights. Hey, Barbara!”

An older woman waved to him as she emerged from one of the wooden buildings ahead. 

“You seen Harry anywhere?”

“Pens, I think. Or pre-school.” 

“Cheers.”

Niall changed course, ducking into a small courtyard. A small water fountain burbled along in a corner, while trees decked with wind chimes tinkled in the wind. 

“One of our feeding stations,” Niall said, pointing to one of the buildings that surrounded the pretty courtyard. “We mostly use that one as a feeding base for the cats who roam the grounds, like Proust here,” he nodded down to the little quacking creature as she wended around Louis’ feet again, “and the cats in the pens and pre-school.” He nodded toward two of the other buildings that made up the quad. “Cats for rehoming get a pen each, with an outdoor area to themselves, and a room behind that for bedding and food.”

Niall stepped into the structure that held the pens, ushering Louis in behind him and bolting the gate. 

“Just in case any of the cats get out of their pens, we don’t want them getting lost,” he explained. 

Louis nodded, distracted by the plaintive look on Proust’s face as she was shut out. He held himself back from waving goodbye. He was pretty sure Niall wouldn’t think he was weird if he did it, but he didn’t want to mess things up so soon. 

“And the pre-school,” Niall said, as he went to open a closed door at the end of the pens, “is where we keep the kittens who are big enough to leave their mothers and look for new homes.”

Louis wasn’t sure what he expected, but he was pretty sure he’d walked through the door and into heaven. 

The room was brightly painted, like a pre-school for children, with colourful depictions of the sun and flowers scrawled across the walls. Soft furnishings and toys littered the floor, and the room felt ridiculously warm and cosy. Best of all, it was full of mewling, prancing kittens. No, even better, the room was full of mewling balls of fluff climbing all over a handsome man. 

Yep. Louis had definitely found heaven.

The man lay on the floor, his long brown hair spread out before him, smiling unabashedly as the kittens climbed all over him, their tiny claws clinging to his shirt and skinny jeans, pulling at the fabric slightly. 

“Harry,” Niall called over the noise of happy kittens. “Louis’ here.”

The man shot up as carefully as he could, catching a kitten as it fell from his shoulder. He looked mildly abashed as he took in Louis, his face pinking. 

Harry tried to scramble to his feet, a feat made all that much harder by the kittens still clinging determinedly to his long, lanky legs. 

“Hey,” he managed, carefully picking his way through the kittens. 

“Good to see you hard at work,” Niall commented, eyeing Harry’s clothes, now completely covered in fluff and fraying threads. 

“Some has to play with them,” Harry said, holding out a hand for Louis to shake. 

“Right, well I’ll take over while you interview this one,” Niall said, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Be careful with him. He’s already had a run in with the three divas.”

Harry’s smile crumpled into one of concern. 

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Louis shrugged, not understanding the fuss.

“They actually seemed to like him,” Niall said. “Took me months to get close to Proust without her trying to gouge an eyeball out, and she just followed him all the way from the car park, begging for cuddles.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“He did have a little tumble though,” Niall added, his face showing he was enjoying Louis’ sudden embarrassment at the reminder, “so do be careful.”

“It was nothing,” Louis said. “Some prick decided to creep up on me and I fell over.”

As soon as the word left his mouth Louis knew he’d royally fucked up. He could already imagine the look on Eleanor’s face when he told her he hadn’t got the job because he’d called someone a ‘prick’. 

Silence met him. It was only for a moment, but it felt like an eternity, the excruciation dragging out before him. Then Niall creased over, laughing. Even Harry was smiling. 

“Harry, please hire him,” Niall begged. “I like him already.” 

“I’m guessing you’re the prick who snuck up on him?”

“Most definitely.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” Harry asked, turning towards Louis. His hand brushed Louis’ arm, sending a thrill of excitement through Louis. He took a moment to remind himself not to be so ridiculous. He’d met gorgeous men before. He’d barely known Harry for five minutes; now was not the time to get excited about a silly little arm-touch. 

“Nothing important,” Louis said. “The goods may be a little bruised,” he added, patting his butt, “but they’ll recover.”

Louis couldn’t help bringing attention to his butt, turning slightly so that Harry would see the rise and swell of it. It was his best feature. It would be wrong _not_ to bring attention to it. It had nothing to do with how attractive Harry was. 

“Good,” Harry said. “I’d hate for ‘the goods’ to have suffered any permanent damage.” 

Louis wasn’t sure if he was imagining the appreciate gaze Harry was giving him, but he hoped like hell he wasn’t wrong in thinking the man was flirting. There was something about the way Harry drawled as he spoke that made everything he said sound like sin. 

Harry guided Louis from the pre-school and away from Niall’s laughter. He passed by the pens, greeting each occupant by name, before leading Louis through the quad and towards a large shed. 

Apparently this was the staff coffee room, equipped with a mini-fridge, kettle, and many tins of biscuits. Harry told Louis to get comfortable as he made them both tea. He instantly went up in Louis’ estimation: the man drank tea, not coffee. 

Proust appeared at the open doorway, a small quack announcing her, before she quickly trotted up to Louis and settled on his lap. 

Harry looked mildly surprised, but settled down across the table without commenting. 

“Can I ask why you want to work at a cat sanctuary?”

Louis knew it was common for job interviews to contain some form of the question “and why do you want to work here?” but he’d thought that was something only applicable to office jobs. He certainly hadn’t expected it, and he definitely hadn’t prepared an answer. Surely everyone just said the same thing? 

“I like cats.”

Harry smiled into his cup of tea.

“A lot of people like cats. They’re now a more popular pet than dogs. Doesn’t mean all those people want to work here.”

Louis shrugged, tangling his fingers into Proust’s fur. She quacked in approval. 

“I like cats. And working outdoors. And I don’t mind hard work.”

“Anything else?”

Harry sounded curious more than anything. He didn’t seem to be asking because he didn’t believe Louis, but because he believed Louis was capable of more.

Or maybe Louis was just projecting. He did that sometimes. 

“My friend, Eleanor, volunteers in the charity shop in town on Saturdays. She told me about this place, and thought it would be good for me.” 

“Good for you?”

“Yeah. A good fit,” Louis explained, hedging. “I like taking care of things, I guess. Being responsible.”

Or he used to, though he wasn’t going to tell Harry that right now. This was about getting better, not living in the past.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. 

“I can only pay slightly above minimum wage.”

“I know.”

“And I’d be asking a lot from you. You wouldn’t be like the volunteers. They turn up when they have the time to help, which sometimes means it’s just me running this place for days at a time. You’d have to be here for feeding in the morning, or feeding at night. Weekends too. I’d cover whichever time you weren’t here for, but it’s anti-social hours. Plus you’d be helping out with a lot of the duties I currently shoulder by myself: ordering supplies, cleaning out the pens, working with the public. Honestly I’m surprised you answered the ad,” he broke off, dragging a hand through his hair. “I really am asking a lot. Too much. I’d understand if you feel it’s too big a commitment. Honestly.”

He looked at Louis as though bracing himself for rejection. 

“I didn’t apply by accident; I knew what would be expected of me.”

Harry nodded somewhat nervously.

“Alright. Well, the job’s yours if you want it.”

“Just like that?” Louis asked. Past experience told him he should expect to hear an answer - usually a rejection - after a few days or weeks of silence. Nobody had ever offered him a job on the spot. 

“Just like that,” Harry confirmed. “Eleanor already vouched for you, plus the vet we use says he knows you. He actually recommended you before you’d even applied.”

“Liam recommended me?” Why hadn't Liam told him he'd done that? 

Harry shook his head, his hair moving softly around him.

“No. James Corden. You know him, right?”

“Yeah,” Louis said. “I’m just surprised he didn’t mention it.”

Liam was a junior vet at the local practise, and James was his ridiculously jovial boss. Sometimes, when things had been really bad, Louis had hung around waiting for Liam’s day to finish. Somehow he’d always ended up back in the pens, fussing the ill or agitated animals. He was sure a couple of vets at the practise had frowned on his presence, but a few words from James and nobody had argued. James seemed to believe Louis was good for the animals. Apparently good enough to recommend him for jobs, it seemed. 

“You said on your application you’d be free to start immediately. Would you be happy if I put you on the rota for Monday? You’d have the weekend to reconsider or ask any questions that way.”

“Okay,” Louis agreed, though he already knew he’d be there bright and early on Monday morning. 

“Great,” Harry smiled. “I guess that’s it, then. Sorry, this is my first time interviewing anyone. I was probably a bit rubbish.” 

“Nah, you were great. I got the job, didn’t I?”

Harry laughed, a full-bodied laugh that actually startled Proust up and out of Louis’ lap. 

What was it with people laughing at his pathetic attempts at humour? It didn’t even sound like a polite laugh. It sounded like Harry was actually laughing. Was there something wrong with the air up here?

Harry almost looked like he was glowing. Dear God, was that a dimple? He had _dimples_. Louis didn’t have a chance.

“I think we’re going to have a lot of fun working together, Louis.” 

Okay, he was definitely not imagining the suggestion in Harry’s eyes this time. Right? _Right?_

“Did Niall show you the retirement village?” 

Louis shook his head. 

Harry’s face lit up even more, if that was actually possible. His smile was blinding. 

“It where we keep all the cats too old to be rehomed. Well, people are welcome to rehome them, but they rarely ever do. Kittens and young cats are popular, but older ones . . . not so much. They have their own fenced off area with little chalets. It’s two to a chalet. They have their own beds, with a little non-functioning fireplace where I place heaters in the winter. I’ve put up picture frames too, and curtains on the windows. It’s like they have their own little homes.” 

Louis was pretty sure he’d just fallen in love. This man was ridiculous. He was gushing about little curtains on little houses with little fake fireplaces, for God’s sake. Who did that? 

“It sounds amazing.”

“It is. You’ll see it on Monday. If you decide to work here. No pressure, of course.”

“Harry, I promise you’re going to see me on Monday morning.”

“Yeah?”

Was Harry blushing again? Louis really had to keep a better check on his imagination. No way a man this gorgeous would be interested in Louis. In fact, there was no way a man this gorgeous could even exist, let alone run a cat sanctuary of all things. 

Now that he thought about it, Louis was pretty sure he was hallucinating. 

“Yeah,” Louis smiled. “This place is so perfect it’s like I dreamt it all up.” 

“You’re not dreaming. You’ll realise that when you find yourself clearing out litter trays first thing in the morning.”

Louis couldn’t help but laugh. He would clear out a thousand litter trays if it meant he got to stare at Harry’s dimples all day. Not that he’d admit to any such thing.

“Well, I’d better let you go,” Harry said, standing up abruptly. He held out his hand for Louis to shake, suddenly formal again. “I look forward to seeing you on Monday, Louis.”  “Yeah, me too,” Louis said, grasping Harry’s hand in his own. His hand was warm and callused, engulfing Louis’ hand completely in its massive grip. 

Louis had never thought hands beautiful before, but there was a first time for everything. 

Louis could feel his face heat up as he imagined Harry’s hand grasping other areas of his body. 

Now was not the time, he reminded himself. Later, though. Later he knew he’d remember the feel of Harry’s hand touching his, and imagining what it would be like to feel those hands touch him elsewhere. 

A sharp quack at the door jolted them apart, and Louis realised they’d been caught in an odd staring match, still holding hands.

Jesus Christ, Harry must think there was something off about him now. Some weirdo who engaged in staring matches and shook your hand for an inappropriate amount of time. 

He quickly shouted a goodbye over his shoulder, exiting with what dignity he still had left. 

He made sure to fuss Proust extra when he reached his car, as a thank you for averting any further embarrassment. Of course, this meant he also had to fuss Stardust and Ziggy. It wasn’t exactly a hardship.

Louis was pretty sure he was going to love this job. A handsome man and hundreds of balls of fluff begging for attention. Looked like everything was going to turn out alright.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of nervous about this fic, as it's different from what I usually write. 
> 
> If you have any thoughts I'd love to hear them in the comments!


End file.
